Nick peered into the dumpster and spotted Sergeant Mabel Jones next to the body of a white guy in his mid-thirties with a large dent in his forehead. HisFree the Weedshirt was stained with dried blood and other juices usually found in trash receptacles.
“Another day in paradise, Jonesy?”
She grinned up at him. Even knee-deep in garbage and corpses, Jones’s black hair didn’t dare escape the strict bun. “Nicky Santiago. What brings you to my dumpster?”
“Gotta talk to the boss,” he said.
“Picked a good day for it. Haven’t seen him in this good of a mood since the Men’s Wearhouse had their two-for-one sale.”
“That so?” he said neutrally.
Mabel held out a hand, and he hauled her up. She landed lightly and brushed construction dust and insulation off her uniform pants.
“Gimmie,” she said, reaching for his coffee.
He handed it over.
She took a hit of hot caffeine and studied his face. “You know something,” she guessed.
“I know lots of somethings,” Nick hedged.
Mabel was a smart cookie with good instincts, and she was terrifying in the interrogation room. Things he’d enjoyed during their brief, four-date relationship several years ago. Things that didn’t serve him in this situation.
Until he got to the bottom of it, the less the rest of the world knew about Beth Weber’s whereabouts, the better.
“You know why the boss is looking like he just doubled his tie wardrobe. What’s up?”
He shrugged. “Maybe he finally got laid.”
Mable snorted and handed his coffee back.
“Sergeant Jones, I hope you’re not sharing information with a civilian,” Kellen said, appearing behind her out of nowhere.
“Spooky,” Jonesy whispered.
“Like a vampire on his way to church,” Nick agreed. He turned his attention to Kellen. “Don’t be a dick just because you got your ribs crushed by Black Hulk Hogan.”
“I wouldn’t have to be a dick if you’d stay out of my crime scenes. Besides, I can’t have you puking all over another corpse.”
“One time,” Nick snapped. “I did that one time.”
“Clearly nobody got laid last night,” Mabel said to herself.
“For your interest in my private life, you can help the ME pull the body out of the dumpster, Sergeant,” Kellen told her.
“Looking forward to it, Detective,” Mabel said with a fake smile before pulling on a fresh pair of gloves and heading back to the dumpster.
“What are you doing here, Nicky?” Kellen asked.
“Brian’s been digging through shit in Arizona and can’t find any family named Hemsworth that fits the description.”
“He better not be doing anything illegal.”
“Let’s skip your TED Talk on how important the justice system is while you refuse to acknowledge how broken it is and skip to the part where we both have a vested interest in finding these assholes.”
Kellen looked like he was chewing on his own teeth in an effort to swallow his lecture. “One person has all the answers we need,” he said finally.
“Yeah, and how do you make a woman talk when she doesn’t want to?”
